The group moved out of the showers into their dormitory, where they began to don their nightclothes. Bertram continued his thought. “They should never have revived us. They should have kept us frozen until we were needed to fight.”

Portia stared at him. “Or until our pods failed and we died!”

“That’s our purpose—to die for the peace of Arcturus. Warborn in peacetime are a threat to the peace. So I say let us die.”

“In battle, yes. I’m not afraid to die fighting. But to lie down and let it come to you? Do nothing to fight against it? Is that what we were made for?”

Horatio interposed himself between them, catching both their eyes to stem their dispute. “You’re both right!” He paused just long enough to ensure they were listening. “We do not serve the peace of Arcturus as we are. That is why we must leave it to learn another way.

“I know it is difficult, what they ask of us. It is not what we expected. But were we not taught that the unexpected is a given in any battle, no matter how well we train?”

Horatio’s gaze widened to take in the whole group. “My friends—we are still going into battle for the peace of our homeworld. But this time… our battle will be with ourselves.”

U.S.S. Asimov NCC-1652

Approaching Kappa Fornacis system

“… And Peter stood right up to him,” Montgomery Scott declared with avuncular pride as he cradled his cooling coffee mug. “Even though the other lad was twice his size and he didn’t have a prayer of winning—still, he stood up for his friend.”

Nyota Uhura smiled, having recognized the story from the moment she entered the Asimov’s officers’ lounge. Yet it was new to Erin Blake, the tall, striking, dark-haired captain of the Malachowski-class starship. She leaned forward eagerly, her bright eyes glinting. “So what happened?”

“Oh, he lost, of course. It was over in seconds. But then his friend stood up and said he’d take on the leader next. And then all the other smaller kids stood up too, united against him, and it finally sank in that he’d become the very kind of bully he thought he was protecting them against.”

“Your nephew is a brave boy,” Blake told him. “Separated from his family for weeks, yet he never lost his cool.”

After getting her own coffee and a pastry from the food slot, Uhura joined them. “His parents were worried sick, though.”

“Ach, they should’ve had more faith in the backbone of a Scotsman—even one without the accent.” The engineer grimaced, wrinkling his bushy salt-and-pepper mustache. “That blasted Yankee father of his should never have taken him on that expedition to begin with. Let alone let himself get separated from his boy.”